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BY
FREDERICK PALMER
Author of "The Last Shot," "The Old Blood," "My Year
of the Great War," etc.

NEW YORK
DODD, MEAD & COMPANY
1917

COPYRIGHT, 1917

BY DODD, MEAD AND COMPANY, Inc.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I BACK TO THE FRONT 1

II VERDUN AND ITS SEQUEL 18

III A CANADIAN INNOVATION 35

IV READY FOR THE BLOW 50

V THE BLOW 67

VI FIRST RESULTS OF THE SOMME 81

VII OUT OF THE HOPPER OF BATTLE 94

VIII FORWARD THE GUNS! 108

IX WHEN THE FRENCH WON 119

X ALONG THE ROAD TO VICTORY 130

XI THE BRIGADE THAT WENT THROUGH 142

XII THE STORMING OF CONTALMAISON 153

XIII A GREAT NIGHT ATTACK 167

XIV THE CAVALRY GOES IN 180

XV ENTER THE ANZACS 190

XVI THE AUSTRALIANS AND A WINDMILL 201

XVII THE HATEFUL RIDGE 213

XVIII A TRULY FRENCH AFFAIR 236

XIX ON THE AERIAL FERRY 244

XX THE EVER MIGHTY GUNS 255

XXI BY THE WAY 269

XXII THE MASTERY OF THE AIR 282

XXIII A PATENT CURTAIN OF FIRE 292

XXIV WATCHING A CHARGE 304

XXV CANADA IS STUBBORN 319

XXVI THE TANKS ARRIVE 332

XXVII THE TANKS IN ACTION 348

XXVIII CANADA IS QUICK 360

XXIX THE HARVEST OF VILLAGES 374

XXX FIVE GENERALS AND VERDUN 385

XXXI Au Revoir , SOMME! 400

MY SECOND YEAR OF THE WAR

I

BACK TO THE FRONT

How America fails to realize the war Difficulties of
realization Uncle Sam is sound at heart In London again A Chief of
Staff who has risen from the ranks Sir William Robertson takes time
to think At the front Kitchener's mob the new army A quiet
headquarters Sir Douglas Haig His office a clearing house of
ideas His business to deal in blows "The Spirit that quickeneth."

"I've never kept up my interest so long in anything as in this war,"
said a woman who sat beside me at dinner when I was home from the front
in the winter of 1915 16. Since then I have wondered if my reply,
"Admirable mental concentration!" was not ironic at the expense of
manners and philosophy. In view of the thousands who were dying in
battle every day, her remark seemed as heartless as it was superficial
and in keeping with the riotous joy of living and prosperity which
strikes every returned American with its contrast to Europe's
self denial, emphasized by such details gained by glimpses in the shop
windows of Fifth Avenue as the exhibit of a pair of ladies' silk hose
inset with lace, price one hundred dollars.

Meanwhile, she was knitting socks or mufflers, I forget which, for the
Allies. Her confusion about war news was common to the whole country,
which heard the special pleading of both sides without any
cross questioning by an attorney. She remarked how the Allies' bulletins
said that the Allies were winning and the German bulletins that the
Germans were winning; but so far as she could see on the map the armies
remained in much the same positions and the wholesale killing continued.
Her interest, I learned on further inquiry, was limited and partisan.
When the Germans had won a victory, she refused to read about it and
threw down her paper in disgust.

There was something human in her attitude, as human as the war itself.
It was a reminder of how far away from the Mississippi is the Somme; how
broad is the Atlantic; how impossible it is to project yourself into the
distance even in the days of the wireless... Continue reading book >>